Expansion Pack: The Adventures of Dopefish and Wassabi
by thedopefishlives
Summary: Dopefish and Wassabi are two friends exploring the online virtual reality world of the OASIS.


The Gunter message boards are on fire. There are now three names on the Scoreboard in three days, and I don't know any of them personally. I read Art3mis' blog on a regular basis (it's funny and super-popular) and I've seen Aech fight in the Arena (what gunter hasn't?), but this "Parzival" is a new one to me. His OASIS profile is hidden but his name (the knight of the round table who found the Holy Grail) suggests that this wasn't a fluke. He's probably been on the Hunt for a while. When I get off work, I'll have to see if Wassabi knows anything.

I work for DexterITy, a third-party OASIS technical support company, as a network and server engineer. The latest OASIS OS server edition is so stable that I really don't do much software work anymore, mainly 0-day patch rollouts and system monitoring, but it gives me time to indulge in my real passion; the Hunt for Halliday's Easter Egg.

My shift's almost over so I start wrapping things up and get ready to log out of my support account. We're given a fair bit of freedom in our job here; there're many shells available for use in the OASIS OS administration console and we can take our pick. I could do my work anywhere from Neuromancer's cyberspace to WarGames' NORAD, but my current favorite is Tank's operator station from the Matrix. Ambient sounds from the Nebuchanezzer leak through the TRON Legacy soundtrack I'm listening to as I check the logs of the last of servers I'm updating. Everything looks A-OK, five by five. I log out.

From the login screen of my OASIS console, I access my own OASIS account, where I go by the name "Dopefish". It can sound a bit childish, but when you've had the same nick since you were twelve, it just feels wrong to go by anything else. I send Wassabi a quick message to let him know I'll be in soon and get an automated reply saying that he's in combat in the Arena, so I know I have time. Wassabi runs a guild, The Guild of No Pants (known for their magically- and technologically-affected transparent legwear selection), and he's their King. They're a mid-sized group but have a few super-wealthy backers who keep them stocked and thanks to their kickass performance in the Guild Arena games, they have more than a few sponsors.

I'm not an actual member of the guild; I'm more of an adherent. Wassabi and I have been friends for so long that the guild is used to seeing me around and they treat me like one of their own, but I'm a solo player. I prefer to do my own thing and not worry about scheduled meetings and match-ups as I get enough of that sort of structure at work. Plus, with my side business, impromptu team battle summons can interfere with delicate, time-sensitive work.

I hack. Not for fame, glory or money (although a little of the last one does tend to happen) but because sometimes it's the only way to effect change. The Sixers (employees of Innovative Online Industries) have so many lobbyists on the payroll and politicians in their pockets that everything seems to get skewed in their favor, and it rubs me the wrong way. I do things to help others do what they should be able to do on their own, but can't because of dirty politics or unfair laws and restrictions.

My current project is the United States Citizen Registry. I'm Canadian and operating from Canada, and would prefer that the Mounties don't knock my front door down, so I'm using TORasis (a branch of the TOR project) to hide my location. Once I've bounced through a number of relays, I use OASploit (a vulnerability and penetration testing framework based on Metasploit) to gain access to deeper and more-protected systems using escalated service accounts. Not for the first time, I wonder why these guys don't have someone like me working to keep people like me out. What I'm doing here is the exact flip-side of what I do at work. I'm not complaining though; this makes my Hacktivism a whole lot easier.

Having reached my target, I'm easily able to change names, fingerprints, retina patterns and anything else anyone needing to go off the grid could require. I've documented the entire process, so I type it up cleanly and concisely, and package the document with all the tools required to do the job.

People who want to disappear, to start over with a clean slate, should have the right to do so. In their attempts to rid the OASIS of the anonymity given to users by Halliday and Morrow, IOI has slowly eroded the online rights of everyone accessing the OASIS, especially in the USA and Canada. I disagree with what they're doing but as you can't fight City Hall, other measures have to be taken. This package will allow people with a minimal level of technical knowledge to do just that, at least until the bugs get fixed. I upload the package to the Leet Hax0rs Warezhaus, my not-so-legitmate data storefront of choice, and assign it a reasonable fee. Chaotic Goods still have bills to pay.

Business managed, I check back in with Wassabi. He's done his match, so we open up a vidchat window.

"What up, lunchbox?" I ask him. My avatar stares back at me from the smaller of the two joined windows, a young white male; tall, wide and thickly built.

"Hey big sexy! You been surfing the boards?" he replies. Wassabi's avatar is also a young white male, slim in build but wiry and toned.

"Only on the surface. Business first." We don't talk about my hacking without being in an encrypted chat session. "What've you found?"

"A lot of crap, but maybe a nugget of truth. There's a loudmouth assclown who's post is claiming something unusually dull and not really worth lying about. Says Aech and Parzival both go to school on Ludus."

"Plenty of kids go to school on Ludus." I reply, somewhat skeptically. It's been a long five years.

"Yeah," he says, "But none of them have found the Copper Key and Gate."

"True that. What do you want to do about it?"

"I've already sent a few of my minions to sneak around and scope out the sitch," he replies. "When they know anything, I'll know. Until then, wanna have some fun?"

I grin big. "Works for me, buddy. Just let me gear up."

I play a tank/healer and Wassabi plays offense, so we work well together as a combat duo. I outfit my avatar with my favorite gear: carbon-steel grey Juggernaut armor, Ancile power tower shield (reduced to an armbar when not active) and Mr Punchy, a Power Glove-style vorpal power fist, scored on a random The Wizard quest run. It's so bad.

Wassabi's trademark ninja cloak, so black it seems to suck the light out of the area around him, appears on his avatar. No pants, of course, so his pasty-white legs and split-toed jika-tabi are clearly visible. On his back, a glowing buster sword, as large as he is, also appears.

I whistle appreciatively and say "Where'd you pick that up?"

He takes it off his back and propellers it in front of him. "The schematic for her dropped during an Advent Children quest and I had one of my smith's bake her up. He's top-notch, so she is too. I call her Felicity." He likes to name his swords. Don't know why.

"Vorpal?"

"Hells yes, good sir. +5 and bonuses to speed."

"Tested it out?" I ask.

"Not yet."

"Then shall we?"

"Let's."

I love to fly. It's my favorite thing about the OASIS. We meet up and take my ship, a highly modified Corellian YT-1300 light freighter. I call her the Heinlein, and she's been heavily upgraded for manoeuvrability and firepower. She's not as fast as the Millennium Falcon, but she can hold her own and then some. She has racing stripes, right down the middle and all the way around, because racing stripes make you go faster. Everybody knows that.

We swing by Niflheim first. It's a chaos zone, so both technology and magic work here. Dark skies and pure white snow make for a beautiful moonlit contrast as we drop down on the dark side of the world. We step out onto the crunchy snow-covered plains, covered in an icy fog that swirls around us as we walk forward. Spotting a frost giant, I look at my friend. He looks at me, nods, and then unsheathes his sword and moves off to the side. As a pure damage-dealer, Wassabi relies on his speed and offensive skills. It's my job to take the hits and keep him free to move and attack. I power up my Ancile, which crackles to life as a sparkling field of blue energy, covering my whole front. I place my pre-charged industrial-grade portable shield generator on my belt like a grenade. It's battle-chargeable, meaning the more damage I take, the faster it recharges. Seeing that Wassabi is ready and in position, I jog up to the frost giant and Mr Punchy sounds like two freight trains colliding as I reach up and punch him in the balls.

The giant rears up, roaring in anger and pain, and starts hammering me with his anvil-sized fists again and again. My shield takes the blows and I brace and hold my ground, using my defensive abilities to keep my shield charged and absorbing the damage. The giant is so focused on his attacks that he doesn't notice Wassabi charging towards his backside. A black and leggy blur leaps into the air and his buster sword gently sighs as Wassabi slices into the monster, doing an astonishing amount of damage. Wassabi lands gracefully and begins a series of rapid-fire slashes and swings, and the giant is more than half-finished. Don't get me wrong; the frost giant is a high-level monster, but Wassabi is among the best at what he does, and what he does best isn't very nice. The giant wheels around and gives Wassabi a backhand. It's nothing compared to what he's been landing on me, but I'm built to take it and Wassabi isn't. He reels from the blow, flying backwards, but regains his balance mid-air and lands, his feet making twin ruts in the snow, 15 feet long.

"Heals." he says to me.

"On it."

This is why I love the power fist; it allows me to attack when needed but keeps my hand free at the same time. Mr Punchy and I hammer the giant repeatedly in the knee and he turns his attention back around. As he's raising his fists over his head, I snap the portable shield generator off my belt with my gloved hand and slam it into the ground, activating it. A translucent blue dome thrums to life around me and I deactivate my Ancile. As the giant beats on the dome shield, I raise both arms, mutter an arcane phrase and cast Cure Serious Wounds on Wassabi. The dome lasts just long enough for me to finish the spell and get my Ancile back in place before it winks out, spent. I grab the generator and clip it back on my belt as the giant rains his punches on me again.

"Thanks, yo!" he says as he moves back into attack position. I keep up my defense and we wait for the generator to charge. About fifteen seconds later, it beeps and we begin Round Two. We go around again and the giant falls backwards, finished, and the ground shakes when he lands. We collect our loot and head back to the Heinlein. It's Wassabi's turn to pick, and we fly to the planet Romero and land at the Monroeville Mall.

Modeled after the 1978 classic "Dawn of the Dead" location, the Monroeville Mall is a zombie hunter's dream. Wassabi dashes from zombie to zombie, slicing and dicing, and I bust a few heads while delivering the heals. My defensive skills aren't really required until we get to the end of the run and have to guard the helicopter while NPCs from the film prep for takeoff. We're big fans of the film, though, and we just like to visit.

We're on our way to Aincrad to take on the Gleam Eyes (Wassabi would've preferred to attack a Titan, but he's a sport) when Wassabi gets a call.

"Ahoy-hoy. What? Slow down. You're sure? Ok, send out the news." He turns to me, deadpanning.

"The tomb is on Ludus."

"The _tomb _of _horrors_ on _Ludus_?!" I ask, rhetorically and excitedly.

"Yes!" He laughs. "Let's go! Go now! Go go go!"

I change our course and head for the nearest stargate. A few minutes later, we arrive at Ludus. The sensors go crazy as dozens of Sixer ships start lighting up the displays.

"That's a lot of ships." Wassabi says.

"You know, Ludus is a safe zone. All we have to do is get down there." I grin. "Want to man the turrets?"

"Think we can make it through the blockade?"

"Don't worry. I am a leaf on the wind."

Wassabi laughs. "Ok, let's do it." He heads back to the custom turret chair I had installed a couple of months ago. It's a stationary, two-handed design that lets one very-alert gunner man two turrets, one with each hand. I'm no good with it myself, but I didn't install it for me. I open up the throttle and we plunge towards the planet. Sixer basestars (of Battlestar Galactica fame) launch their fighters, but they aren't Cylons.

"Dude! Squiddies!" I call to the back. Squiddies from the Matrix films are fast, smart and tough to hit but not heavily armored.

"I see them! Their shiny metal asses are mine!"

"Great kid! Don't get cocky!" We both laugh and then the laughter trails off as things start heating up. I deke and roll the Heinlein in all directions, diving towards Ludus in a swooping flightpath as convoluted as the plot of an M Night Shyamalan film. Wassabi's hands twitch back and forth as he spins the dorsal and ventral turrets after the mass of squidies all around us, their cutting lasers blazing as they get close. One of my monitors displays an external camera view of the ship and we resemble a streaking Death Blossom as laser blasts and explosions fill the black. Despite our best efforts, we're still taking heavy fire and the low-shield warning starts to flash, but then everything goes silent as we cross the Ludus planetary boundary and the zone rules change to "PLAYER VERSUS PLAYER COMBAT NOT PERMITTED HERE".

Wassabi lets out a woo and I relax my death grip on the Heinlein's flight yoke. We follow the torrent of Sixer and gunter ships down to the planet's surface where we come face-to-face with massive two-layered force field dome.

"Awwww." we both say at the same time.

"I'm guessing that's where the tomb is."

"Yeah, I can just make out the skull pattern in the rocks through the field haze." Wassabi replies. We watch as the Sixers drop the outer field to allow their own ships through, then raise the outer field and lower the inner field to let them approach the tomb. Ships and players alike were randomly firing at the field, to no avail. We stood there, staring at it for a few minutes, watching the domes go down and up in sequence.

"A few of my guys have already tried teleporting by tech and by spell. No go," Wassabi says.

"I wonder just how much punishment those domes can take," I murmur, continuing to observe the scene in front of us.

"Whatever gets dished out," Wassabi replies, "none of it will touch anyone here. No one would get hurt." He gets a gleam in his eye and turns to me.

"Boom goes the dynamite?" I ask, seeing where he's heading.

"Double your pleasure, double your fun," he replies. "Let me see what I can call down."

While Wassabi talks fast into his comlink, I go back up the Heinlein's ramp and retrieve a pair of vinyl folding lawn chairs and then set them up in the grass in front of the ship. We each take a seat, Wassabi nodding his approval without a pause in his chatter. A few more minutes pass and he finishes his conversation and sets down the comlink.

"So?" I ask.

"Can't tell you. Double secret guild business." He winks and grins widely. "You'll see."

We kick back and watch the show. Players were firing all kinds of weapons at the shield and some were even smashing their ships into it after bailing out. The top field would flicker the slightest little bit, but the lower field wouldn't even feel a breeze. It's a pleasant light show.

A little while later, a Type-6 shuttlecraft (STNG-style) drops down near the Heinlein and a handful of no-pants bring out two large crates, each about two meters cubed, on floating antigravity sleds.

I could feel my eyes widen involuntarily. "Are those what I think they are?"

"Yep." Wassabi's grin was back with a vengeance. "We have more than a few members who'd like to see those fields come down sooner as opposed to later, so they pooled and did some shopping on eBay."

The guildies pushing the sleds each hit a button and the crates fell away. Left, one on each sled, was a massive, spiky, very dangerous-looking smoke-grey sphere.

"Antimatter bombs," I say, with more than a little reverence. I'd never seen one up close, never mind two.

"One for each shield, detonated in sequence. This should give people something to talk about for a while." His grin never wavered. As the bombs are moved into place, my friend turns to me again.

"Hold onto your butt."


End file.
